Broken
by crematosis
Summary: He wants to be better, to be stronger, to be someone useful for Steve. Steve's friends have the machine now. They can fix him, they can make him Bucky again. Why won't they fix him?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is a little different for me. I usually write in past tense and my stories are largely dialogue-driven. But I got this prompt on avengerkink and it was just so gloriously sad and I could see it happening so I had to write it. It's not my usual style, so it may not be the same quality I usually write, but I actually kind of like it. Thoughts?

Disclaimer: Poor Bucky. Poor, poor Bucky. I just want to give him a hug after all he's been through and well, if it was up to me he wouldn't have to suffer because I don't like all the torture-y stuff but oh Bucky what have I done to you

He's broken.

Just bits and pieces of the man, the men, he once was.

Bucky, the Winter Soldier. Both identities are equally foreign to him now.

There are nights when he wakes up from a swirl of nightmarish images of blood, bullets, bodies lying in the snow. And his mind is a complete blank. He doesn't know who he is or where he is. But Steve is always there, stroking his shoulder and whispering, "It's okay, Bucky. You're safe. I won't let them get to you."

Steve is real. He can trust Steve, even if he can't trust himself.

And he can trust the people Steve trusts.

Tony and Bruce are Steve's friends. "I'd die for them," Steve says. "And they'd do the same for me."

That's all he needs to hear.

He spends hours in Bruce and Tony's lab. They're good people. Kind, patient, understanding. They call him Bucky, just like Steve does. That, more than anything, reassures him that they just want to help.

Bruce teaches him meditation. His calm, soothing voice grounds him in the moment. When he talks with Bruce about what he remembers, Bruce sits quietly and listens. He pours him a cup of tea and doesn't say anything when his hand starts to shake.

Tony doesn't listen. He just talks, about everything from Steve's first moments out of the ice, to the upgrades he wants to make to the mechanical arm. Tony's enthusiasm is infectious. He acts as if he can fix everything. And maybe, maybe he starts to believe Tony can even fix him.

But there are plenty of bad days. There are days when a knock on the door sounds like a gunshot, when a butter knife becomes a deadly weapon he has to knock out of Bruce's hands. And every time Natasha stops by, they all have to hold him back. No matter how many times Steve tells him she's a friend, he can't fight down the impulse to grab a knife and hurl it at her.

It's not right. He knows it's not right. Steve doesn't want him killing people. But he can't stop himself. Not even for Steve.

After every encounter with Natasha, Steve takes him to the Captain America exhibit in the Smithsonian. It feels like a refuge. He isn't sure of too many things these days, but he's sure of Steve. And Steve's face is plastered all over the exhibit. Maybe that's why he knew to look for him here in the aftermath.

They take their time walking through every inch of the exhibit, looking at every picture. There are some faces that are achingly familiar. Men in WWII uniforms, smiling and laughing together. The Howling Commandos. He knows he should know them, but the memories are just out of reach.

Right before they leave, they always stop in front of the display dedicated to James "Bucky" Barnes. It's his picture on the wall. And the bio under it is all about his life and actions in the war. But it's like reading about a stranger.

Steve is better at hiding his disappointment now, but it's still there in the set of his jaw.

He's so tired of disappointing Steve. He wants to remember. He wants to be the Bucky that Steve always talks about so highly. They tell him he's making progress, but that's what they told him the month before. And the month before that.

But they have the machine now.

It's in a corner of the lab, partially covered with a tarp. He pulled off the tarp once, curious to see what new project Tony was working on. And there it was.

He didn't know he was capable of such a pathetic whimper.

Bruce was at his side instantly, hastily tossing the tarp back over the machine. "We're not going to hurt you," he said in a voice reserved for injured animals. "We just want to help."

"Help me get better," he said, repeating what Steve kept telling him.

There was a look of desperate relief on Bruce's face.

He told himself that he could do it. That Steve's friends were doing this for his own good. That they would be gentle.

But Bruce steered him over to the other side of the lab and Tony began rambling on about the synthetic skin he was going to put over his mechanical arm, how it was going to look completely natural, and wouldn't it be nice to finally look normal again?

It would be nicer to feel normal.

Days passed anxiously anticipating being put back into the machine. Every time Steve sent him down to spend time in the lab, he felt fear in the pit of his stomach. The nightmares got worse. Faceless people screamed in terror and he watched himself put a bullet through their heads. He woke kicking and thrashing.

He's unstable. Erratic. They should put him back in the machine. Fix him. Make him the person Steve wants him to be.

But they don't.

It's a test, he decides. To see how badly he wants to get better. When he's ready to be Bucky, they won't have to force him into the machine. He'll volunteer.

And he will. Eventually. He does want to be Bucky again, after all. He really does. But right now, his fear of the pain is stronger than his desire to get better. He remembers the taste of the plastic mouthpiece wedged between his teeth and the bite of the metal straps against his wrist and he doesn't think he can do that ever again. Not even for Steve.

It takes a particularly bad nightmare to change his mind. In the dream, he's walking towards Steve, firing another shot at him with each step. Steve's face is anguished as he whispers, "Bucky, it's me. Don't you remember?"

But he keeps advancing until Steve is backed against the wall and the gun is pressed against his forehead. Steve closes his eyes and drops his shield.

He wakes up right before he pulls the trigger, panting and gasping, desperately reaching for Steve.

Steve is already awake. "Shh, Bucky," he says, threading fingers through his hair. "It was just a dream. You're safe now."

Safe. He's safe. But is Steve safe?

"You want me to get better, don't you?" he asks.

"More than anything," Steve says with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder. "And you will. Don't worry, Buck."

Steve smiles, but it's strained. It doesn't reach his eyes.

Ad it hits him suddenly. He's breaking Steve.

He sees it in Steve's bloodshot eyes, the lines of exhaustion in his face. The supersoldier serum has made Steve stronger, but even Steve can't keep going on like this forever.

"Let's get back to sleep," Steve mumbles. He stifles a yawn.

Steve has a mission in the morning, he remembers. He's spending the day with Tony and Bruce while Steve, Natasha and Sam take out another Hydra base.

He should be there with them, cleaning up the damage. After all, he was once part of Hydra. It's his mess to clean up, not Steve's.

But he sits home like an invalid while Steve runs himself ragged.

He was a soldier once. He should be fighting by their side. Be helpful, be useful, be an asset to Steve's team.

But first, he has to get better.

His resolve is strengthened when Steve comes back from his mission battered and bloody. Natasha and Sam have their arms around him, helping him limp his way into the tower.

He rushes to Steve's side.

Natasha immediately backs into a defensive stance. But he couldn't care less about her right now. Not when all his focus is on Steve.

He's never seen Steve in such terrible shape. His costume is torn in several places and he looks like he's been shot in the chest a few times and once in the hip. It doesn't make sense. Steve is usually so good with his shield. He doesn't get hurt this badly.

He takes Natasha's place at Steve's side and helps ease him down onto the couch.

"Thanks, Buck," Steve says tiredly. He leans his head back against the couch and closes his eyes. "God, what a shitty day."

Steve will heal. Of course he will. His body always heals. But seeing him like this is so hard. He runs his hand over a bloody gash on Steve's shoulder. Getting beaten up like this has to leave scars somewhere. They won't be visible anymore, but they'll still be there, scarring Steve's spirit.

"Hey, none of that," Steve says, opening one eye. "I'll be fine." He puts a hand over his. "Tell me about how it went down in the lab. Tony said he was going to have you listening to old records today."

He opens his mouth to begin and then changes his mind. Steve doesn't need any more disappointment today. He doesn't need to hear how he can't recognize any of the big band tunes Tony says was popular back in the day.

He settles onto the sofa next to Steve and tries not to panic when he sees the bloody hand print on his shirt after Steve pats his shoulder.

Sam disappears downstairs to find Bruce, and when he returns Tony is trailing after them.

"What the hell happened?" Tony exclaims.

Natasha shushes him and draws back into a private corner of the room. But he still picks up bits and pieces of their conversation.

"He didn't see the sniper. It was-"

"That's not like him."

"-hasn't been focused lately."

Tony snorts and stalks back to the elevators.

No, it's not like Steve to mess up a mission. Steve is brave, Steve is strong, Steve is perfect.

And he's ruining him.

He needs to stop being a coward. Steve is more important than he is. The world needs Captain America. It doesn't really need Bucky.

"I think I'll stay down in the lab tonight," he whispers in Steve's ear.

Steve tenses and looks at him with a mixture of confusion and hurt.

"Just for tonight," he assures him. If everything goes according to plan, one night will be all he needs.

"It's probably for the best," Bruce agrees as he lays a bandage over Steve's shoulder. "You'll heal a lot faster if your wounds aren't jostled in the middle of the night."

He doesn't mention the fact that a full night's sleep will probably help Steve heal, too.

Steve just nods. Too tired to argue, probably.

Bruce pats Steve's good shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll take good care of him."

With a heavy groan, Steve lifts himself off the couch and staggers in the direction of his bedroom. Bruce walks beside him, murmuring encouragements.

He can't watch this. He flees back down to the lab.

Tony is deep in the middle of a new project. He spares him only a brief glance and cranks up a Glenn Miller record.

This is it. Time to stop letting everyone down. Time to stop endangering Steve's life.

He tugs off the tarp and carefully eases himself into the chair. He takes a deep, steadying breath.

He can do this.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I decided to switch POV character for this chapter to give a different perspective that Bucky wouldn't realize on his own. And Tony's my favorite Avenger, so, I picked him. Unfortunately, since it is Tony, the tone is a little different now. Hopefully that's not too jarring.

Disclaimer: No ownership, blah blah blah...I'm just torturing poor Bucky more because I am a terrible person.

Tony doesn't even look up from his work when the lab doors swish open a second time. It's Bruce, of course. The only people coming down to the lab these days are Bruce and Bucky, and Bucky's already poking around the lab somewhere. Bucky is fascinated by most of Tony's tech and Tony is all too happy to show off his projects to someone who listens with rapt attention to all his explanations. He's sure Bucky doesn't understand half of what he says, but it doesn't seem to matter.

"You're really good at this," Bucky said to him one day, with absolute sincerity. "So much better than Howard could ever be." And then he blinked, looking startled that he had spoken. "Do I even know a Howard?"

So, no, he doesn't mind at all that Bucky wants to spend the night in the lab. As far as Tony's concerned, Bucky can spend the rest of his life in the lab if he wants, marveling over everything Tony makes. Bucky's surprisingly gentle when he handles Tony's tech so he doesn't even have to worry about him accidentally breaking something. And if he does break something, Tony can always build another one.

He's sure he can even rebuild the cot Bruce settled into an alcove in the lab for power naps. He's heard about Bucky's nightmares and he will probably trash the cot with his metal arm if he decides to sleep in it.

But he probably won't. He's been restless lately.

Dimly, he realizes that Bruce has been standing in the doorway for the past fifteen minutes, maybe longer. He glances up from the pile of parts and frowns. Bruce is pale and his eyes are staring into the distance.

"Uh, Bruce?" Tony says. "Hey, buddy, what are you looking at? You're scaring me, you know."

"Oh, shit," Bruce says.

Tony turns to follow Bruce's gaze. Bucky is sitting in the chair, eyes wide with fear and his whole body trembling like a leaf.

Shit doesn't even begin to cover it.

"Fix me," Bucky says quietly. "I don't want to be broken anymore."

Bruce squeezes his eyes shut. "Bucky, you don't understand-"

"I'll be good. I'll be so good," Bucky says in a rush. "I know you don't want to hurt me, so I'll sit still and I won't even scream. And I'll forgive you, because you're only doing what you have to do to make me better again."

"Call Steve," Bruce says. "Right now."

Bruce's knuckles are white against the countertop and he makes a desperate wheezing sound. He's either about to cry or Hulk out and Tony really doesn't want to find out which.

"No, don't call Steve," Bucky pleads. "I don't want him to see me like this."

"Neither do we," Tony shoots back. He autodials Steve's number.

Steve picks up on the third ring. "Tony, do you have any idea what time it is?" he groans.

Tony feels bad. He really does. Steve probably sleeps even less than he does these days. Maybe only a hour or two while Bucky spends time in the lab.

"I wouldn't call if it wasn't important," he says.

"What happened?" Steve demands, all traces of grogginess out of his voice. "Is Bucky okay?"

Tony glances back at Bucky, who is curled up in a ball on the chair. "Just get down here," he says.

"Please," Bucky says pitifully. "Steve wants me to get better. Do it for Steve."

"I'll be right there," Steve says, followed by a loud crash and frantic swearing.

Steve's too preoccupied to hang up the phone, Tony realizes, so he pushes the "end call" button and tucks his phone back into his pocket. "Steve's on his way," he says unnecessarily.

Bucky shuts his eyes and flinches like he's been hit. "Please," he says again, in a paper-thin voice.

Tony kneels down in front of the machine and meets Bucky's eyes. "I know what torture's like," he says.

"Tony," Bruce says warningly.

Tony ignores him. "I was holed up in a cave in Afghanistan for a couple months. It's nothing compared to what you've been through, of course. But, still, torture. And you know what? I had nightmares, too. Still do sometimes."

Bucky's eyes go wide.

"Trust me," Tony says. "There is no quick fix for this sort of thing. If there was, I would have built it already."

"But this fixes me," Bucky says, sounding a little less sure of himself now. "It's always fixed me before." He draws his knees up to his chest and stares at a spot on the floor. "Asset is unstable, asset is erratic. Erase and start over, erase, erase, erase..." He repeats it over and over again like a mantra.

Tony sighs and drops his head. They can't reason with Bucky now. He's lost in the past and they just have to wait till his mind clears.

Bucky hasn't had a major freakout like this in weeks. Tony had hoped that maybe he was past that stage now, but that was apparently just wishful thinking. He should know better. He's the one having panic attacks over something that happened six months ago.

"Captain Rogers has arrived," Jarvis announces. "He appears to have forgotten his code."

"Let him in," Tony says.

Steve rushes into the lab and then comes to a halt. His eyes darken and his jaw clenches. "How dare you," he says in a low voice. "I trusted you to take care of him."

Tony scrambles backward as Steve advances on him. "Hey, it's us, remember? We're the good guys."

"I thought you were," Steve says. "But if you're just going to make him relive all the horrible things that have been done to him, I'm not so sure anymore."

Steve levels him with a look eerily similar to the one Steve gave him at their very first meeting, the one that says Tony is the scum of the earth. And it hurts that Steve could think such awful things about him after all the time they spent fighting together. But he supposes he can't blame Steve. He created things for SHIELD that could have been used to kill him, to kill everyone. So, it's only natural that Steve doesn't trust him anymore.

"Don't be mad at him. He didn't force me," Bucky says. "I want this. I want to be better."

All the anger drains out of Steve at once. "Oh, Bucky," he says. His shoulders slump.

Bucky's brow furrows. "What's the matter? I'm volunteering. I'm making a conscious decision to get better. That's a good thing, right? Why are you so upset? What did I do this time?"

Steve takes Bucky's hand. "We're going to get you back, Buck. We're going to make you better."

Bucky nods earnestly.

"But not like this."

Bucky's face crumples. "But this is the only way I know how."

"There are other ways. Bruce and Tony are teaching them to you." Steve looks at Tony apologetically. "They say you're doing better."

It's so hard to stay mad at Steve. He couldn't blame him, really. Steve is so tired these days, isn't thinking straight anymore. Natural consequences of trying to take on the world on his own. Not that Tony would know anything about that.

"It's not enough," Bucky says, eyes welling up with tears. "I need to get better. I need to be useful again."

"You will," Steve assures him.

"But what if I don't?"

Steve has no answer for that.

"This is pointless," Bucky says. "It's all pointless. I'm never going to get better, am I? Maybe you should have killed me when you had the chance. Put me out of my misery." He shoves at Steve, overbalances and topples over sideways out of the chair.

Steve catches him and eases him to the ground. Bucky clings to Steve's shoulders and sobs into his shirt, great heaving sobs that wrack his whole body. Steve just cradles Bucky in his lap, murmuring to him and stroking his back.

Man, this is terrible to watch. Tony hates when people cry. Absolutely hates it. He's no good with feelings. And he's probably going to make it worse, but he needs to do something because he really can't stand to see Bucky cry.

Tony crawls over and awkwardly pats Bucky's shoulder. "You're a good kid, Bucky. That's how I know you'll be fine in the long run. Maybe not the same man you were back in the day, but you'll make it out of this."

Bruce crouches down beside Bucky. "You're making very good progress," he says. "You've come a long way from the state you were in when Steve first found you."

Tony remembers the first time Steve brought Bucky down to the lab. Bucky stood in the corner and glowered at them for the entire two hour session. It had taken a whole week before he would actually speak to anyone besides Steve.

"It's not enough," Bucky says. "I should be fighting harder to get better. I should have fought harder against Hydra in the first place. I would have never tried to kill Steve."

Bruce puts both hands on Bucky's shoulders. "This is not your fault. They made you into a mindless monster and the fact that you could break out of that is admirable."

And Bruce looks like he's going to start crying too. What a mess they are, all huddled in a teary heap on the floor.

"But I'm not getting better anymore," Bucky says disconsolately. "I haven't remembered anything else."

"No," Bruce admits. "But you didn't attack Natasha today. That's a definite improvement."

"Of course I didn't," Bucky says indignantly. "Steve was hurt and I had to make sure-oh god." He flails out of Steve's arms. "What are you doing down here? You're injured and you're supposed to be resting and healing and oh god, I hit you. I'm making it worse. I'm ruining everything."

Steve sighs and hauls Bucky back onto his lap. "I'm fine." He rolls down his sleeve to show that the angry red wounds have already started fading. "I'm not the wimpy little kid you always had to protect. It's my turn to look after you now." He looks at Tony sheepishly again. "With a little help from Bruce and Tony, of course."

"What if I never remember everything?" Bucky whispers.

"Doesn't matter." Steve strokes Bucky's hair. "You're still Bucky where it counts."

It's going to be a long road to recovery, Tony knows. Bucky's going to be upset and frustrated and they're going to have a lot more conversations that end in tears. And Steve's going to worry about him every step of the way. Tony, for one, is going to make sure he drags Bucky down to the lab more often so Steve can finally get some sleep. Because Steve can't do it all on his own. They're a team now. A fucking team. And he's just going to learn to accept that.


End file.
